ForgetMeNot
by Dark Aria
Summary: Due to a mishap, everyone Cal knows forgets who he is. Will our favorite emo-boy solve the crisis before he goes off the deep end?
1. Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

**Chapter 1: Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot**

Cal came to, groaning. That damn minotaur had smashed him right over the side of the ravine. Fortunately, it was shallower than it had looked, and a shrub had broken his fall. Cal listened for sounds of the continuing fight above, but heard nothing. Frowning, he carefully pulled himself out of the thornbush and clawed his way back up the steep side of the hill. When he got to the top, he looked around in amazement. There was no one and no fight. The ground was torn up and so were some of the trees. But no Niko. Cal felt a small tinge of panic. Where was he? Cal pulled out his cell phone, and was momentarily distracted by the time. Nearly two hours had passed and evening was settling in. He punched in Niko's number.

"Hello?" It was Niko's voice all right, but he sounded confused.

"Where the hell are you? Are you alright?" Cal was almost shouting.

"Who is this?"

Ice trailed down Cal's spine. "It's Cal. Your brother, you know?"

"You must have the wrong number." And with that, he hung up.

Cal stared at the phone. Was Niko hurt? Was he captured or with someone he couldn't speak in front of? He began limping towards the park trail. Something caught his eye and he bent down to pick it up.

It was an earring. A small hoop with blood still on the post. Cal remembered that little shit Timur had been wearing these. He had been quite a site, wearing an old pastel 70's prom tux and gold hoop earrings in his oversized, bat-like ears. The minotaur had hired them to track him down after he'd been conned out of a considerable amount of money. Unfortunately, when they'd found the creep in the remotest part of the park performing some kind of ritual, their client had gone berserk and tried to trample his former partner. The brothers had suddenly been in the unenviable position of trying to stop a minotaur with a full head of steam and murder in his eyes. Cal would have let him go ahead, but letting Timur die would have bothered Niko's conscience. Sometime during the melee Cal had been knocked over a small cliff.

He finally made it back to their door, and felt for his keys, frowning. They were gone, probably under a thornbush back at the park. Cal knocked on the door. A moment later Niko answered. He had a couple of scratches on his face, but was showered and in fresh clothing.

Cal stared in disbelief. "Nik – why the hell did you leave me in the park?"

His brother frowned down at him. "You're the person who called just a little while ago. How did you know where I live?"

Cal swallowed. This wasn't Niko's brand of humor. "You really don't know me, do you? I'm your brother, Caliban. Cal." The only other people he could smell in the apartment were Promise & Robin. Niko was not under any coercion or threat.

Niko's eyes narrowed, taking in his dirty, battered appearance. "I've never had a brother. I don't know who you are, but you need to drop this obsession here and now." He leaned in menacingly, his voice turning icy, "It isn't healthy for you." Niko's cold tone of voice was nothing compared to the sliver of ice that lodged in Cal's heart. He opened his mouth, but never got a chance to speak.

Robin let out a string of curses. "Niko. Step away from that. It's an auphe." Robin was pointing a gun, sidling to one side to get a better angle past Niko.

Cal scowled at Robin. "Oh, nice, Loman. Do I look like a fucking auphe?"

He felt something cold at his neck. He realized Niko had a sword to his throat. Things were definitely going downhill.

"It's not entirely auphe. It is part human," corrected Promise softly. She was angling from the other side. It occurred to Cal that he knew some damn scary people. He also noticed for the first time that the apartment was spotless – his jacket was missing from the hook by the door, his dirty dishes and magazines gone from the coffee table. In fact, from his point of view by the door, there were no signs he'd ever lived there. What the fuck?

"Marvelous. So what we have is a sub-human freak of nature. Don't trust anything it says, Niko."

The three were beyond hostile. Cal's hands twitched, but the sword tip pressed harder. A trickle of blood slipped free of Cal's skin. "If you even start to reach for that gun, or the knife in the back of your belt, I'll kill you," Niko said calmly.

Cal's mouth quirked. "Yeah, I believe you." He lifted his hands non-threateningly. He spat out his cell phone number. "I'm leaving. Call me when you've pulled your heads out of your collective ass."

Cal turned away and headed down the stairwell before he totally lost it. He made it as far as the second landing before he turned and punched the wall, cracking the plaster. Red-hot pain lanced up his arm. Cal gasped and cradled his fist. "Fucking brilliant," he muttered.

"Boy."

Cal looked up to see Promise just two steps above him. Fuck – he never heard her behind him. His heartbeat picked up and doubtless the vampire could hear it.

"Niko is mine. Don't you ever come near him again."

Cal laughed bitterly. "Damn. I'll bet you've wanted to say that to me for a long time. Relax. I won't be back until I've figured out what in the hell is going on."

She regarded him out of narrowed, purple eyes. "You truly are mad."

"Oh, I'm way past mad, princess," Cal snarled. With that, he gave a jaunty wave with his uninjured hand and left.

Cal walked down the street, seething. People instinctively stepped out of his way. Granted, he was covered in dirt and scratches and on the verge of a homicidal rage. Cal tried to think past the rage, past the giant gaping hole that had opened in his heart and the black muttering shadows whispering in his head. Niko was lost to him, at least for the moment. Nik was alive, and maybe even safer without him, but Cal was lost. Without Niko, he really was a sub-human freak. A monster. Niko was his better, human half. Cal clenched his injured fist to help him focus on the here & now. What happened in the fight? Right before the fight broke out the little shit had looked like he'd set up some kind of spell, complete with pentagram and incense. He had been holding a glowing ball of some sort, and Cal had stumbled into him just as it flared. The last thing he remembered was that berserk minotaur knocking him off the cliff. Right. Find Timur, and find out what he knows.

Cal arrived at the ice cream shop an hour later. The old man was working behind the counter, and George the freckle queen was at her usual booth, talking softly and sympathetically to a very pregnant woman who was in tears. Cal grimaced and turned around to order a double chocolate malt shake. He drank it greedily, realizing he hadn't eaten in hours. After the woman left, Cal waited a few minutes before sliding into the booth across from her.

George smiled politely. "Hello. Have we met?" She tilted her head to one side, considering Cal.

Cal sighed. "Must have been another lifetime. Look, I need to find someone, and I need your help."

George nodded, putting on her sympathetic professional psychic face. She reached across for Cal's hand. Instead, Cal dropped Timur's earring into her palm.

"I need to find the guy who wore that last."

George turned over the earring, noting the dried blood. "Is he a friend?"

Cal regarded her steadily. "He took my brother from me. I want him back."

George's brows rose in surprise. She focused on the earring. "Timur," she murmured. After a minute or two, an eternity to Cal, she looked up. "He's in Atlantic City. You'll be able to find him at a place called One Eyed Jack's."

Cal exhaled sharply and sat back. "Thanks." He started to get out of the booth.

"Caliban."

Cal froze.

"Be very careful. Yours is not the only heart at stake, here."

"Huh. Right." Cal shrugged and exited the ice cream parlor in a slouch. On the way out, he dropped his last twenty in the tip jar while the old man was talking to the psychic.

Cal thought furiously as he walked. How to get to Atlantic City? He could steal Niko's car, he thought with a smirk. It would serve him right. But Cal wasn't sure the car would make it as far as city limits, much less to Jersey. Then Cal had a better idea.

A couple of hours before dawn Cal scoped out Robin's dealership. All was quiet as he slipped through the lot towards the main entrance. When he got to the door he broke out the glass. This caused the alarm to start beeping, but Cal knew the code. Robin didn't remember his being here multiple times to work off some of their car payments, so he wouldn't have reset the alarm. Cal kicked in the door to the interior office. With a prybar, he opened the lockbox for the keys. He mulled over his choices, then realized there was really only one option: the jet-black Camaro Robin received last week – the one that Robin had made him detail to a high finish. Cal picked up the keys and tossed them from hand to hand. "Sweet!" he said softly. Then he realized he needed something else as well.

Robin had once let Cal see him enter the safe combo while regaling him about one of Nero's special birthday parties. He hadn't cared, because Cal (ordinarily) would never steal from him. So now Cal entered the numbers, and the safe handle popped open. Most of Robin's sales were legit cashier's checks or electronic transfers, but he did have a few thousand in bills on hand. Cal counted out one thousand in hundreds and pocketed it. He closed everything up, and because he knew Niko would be very disapproving of his actions, desperation or no, he grabbed a piece of Robin's stationery and a pen.

'IOU 1000 + one Camaro' he wrote. Underneath he drew a cartoon of an auphe.

Just past nine in the morning Cal's cell phone rang. He had filled up the tank, stopped off at a bakery for a box of donuts and coffee, and hit the road. He turned down the radio to answer the phone.

"Yeah?"

"You filthy malaka," hissed Robin. "I'm going to hunt you down and tear you limb from limb."

Cal whistled. "Damn, Loman. Excuse me, Robin. You sound upset. And how do you think you're going to hunt me down? You were going to lowjack this car today, remember?"

"How did you know that?"

"We've been over this, remember?"

After a moment of silence, Robin said, "You still won't get far in a stolen Camaro."

Cal tsked. "Are you sure you want to send New York's finest after me? Unprepared?"

"Fine. I'll come after you myself. And when I do, the stories of what I'm going to do to you will be used for centuries to scare boglets into good behavior."

"Relax, Goodfellow. I'll bring back your precious car. But you owe me for calling me a subhuman freak." Cal hung up.

Cal made it to Atlantic City by midday. He was able to use the expertise he'd learned traveling on the run from the auphe with Niko to find a motel that would take cash, no questions asked. After checking in, Cal realized he had no gear to stow away except for the clothes he was wearing and the weapons he carried. He sniffed himself and made a face. After a couple of days in these clothes, including the roll into the ravine, he was decidedly rank. Cal ran across the street to a convenience store and bought a burrito plus some soap, toothpaste, and a toothbrush. He spent some time in the motel room washing his clothes in the sink, ate the bean & cheese burrito & chased it down with chocolate milk. He actually found himself missing Niko's nagging voice telling him to knock it off with the junk food. Cal never thought that would happen. He stretched out on the bed, intending to go out after dark to look for the place George said he'd find Timur.


	2. Objects In The Mirror

**Chapter Two: Objects In The Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear**

Cal woke up in darkness, mouth open wide in a silent scream. He came up thrashing and hit metal with his already sore hand. Bars of a cage pressed down on him, barely giving him room to lash out with his knife. Then he realized he was under a cheap motel bed, crowded under there with discarded condom wrappers, dust bunnies, and God knew what else. For a wild moment, Cal wondered where in the hell Niko was – why he didn't wake him up before the nightmare got this far. Then he remembered.

Niko was in New York. Too far away to help him.

Cal began shaking badly. Always his brother had been there to ground him, to pull him out of the worst of his 'states.' Flashes of the dream flickered in his mind's eye – auphe breath on his face, talons caressing, and silver eyes appearing out of the darkness. Cal knew on some level he was curled in a fetal position, helpless whimpers of a word escaping from his mouth. The word was auphe for 'stop.' There was no word in their language for 'please,' but he was begging nonetheless.

Cal dug fingers of his free hand into his other forearm and twisted viciously. The pain brought him around, helped him focus, and enabled him to stop keening. He rested under the bed for a long time, gathering his thoughts, taking in huge gulps of air. Focus, he told himself. Niko wasn't lost; they were just temporarily separated. And once Cal found Timur, he'd make everything right. There was no question of that.

Cal emerged from under the bed slowly, listening for whether his 'episode' had attracted the neighbors' attention. All he heard was distant traffic and the TV in the next room. He took a quick shower and then dressed in his damp clothes. He paused when he saw the deep purple & black bruise on his forearm. Cal touched it lightly & electric pain streaked up his arm.

"Shit. I'm more of a danger to myself than anyone else."

Cal had paid in advance for several days, so he went out in the Camaro to cruise the town and look for places where the less than human hung out. One Eyed Jack's wasn't in any phone book, so he had to assume it was underground. He found a promising, run-down neighborhood, parked, and took a stroll. There was a deli with the distinct smell of eau-de-werewolf wafting from the door. Cal glanced in past the 'Special today: lamb chops!' sandwich board. The owner was definitely on the hairy side. The meats displayed in the glass cases all looked like the usual deli fare, but the owner was currently ringing up a shady character in a large overcoat & hat pulled down low who had an amphibian sort of smell. Cal shuddered and kept moving before he could identify the contents of the white-papered package being handed over.

For the rest of the evening Cal went around asking after Timur and One Eyed Jack's. When the supernatural denizens realized what he was, most of them reacted with disgust or fear. But no one claimed to know anything about the pipsqueak. One owner of a bar told him how to get to Jack's, probably just to get rid of the aupheling before 'it' did any damage to his business. Wasn't it nice to be so popular?

Cal managed to find the neighborhood where Jack's was supposed to be and made his way through a run-down industrialized area. Then he felt a familiar, terror-inspiring tingle in his gut. Cal dropped into some shadows against a building, gun out. He glanced around; sniffing and scanning for the auphe he just felt gating in nearby.

A scream was cut short to his left. He glanced about, and then eased forward through the shadows. He made sure to be downwind from the sound, which he followed to a mechanic shop. Cal peeked in. The auphe was kneeling over a corpse of a vampire that was leaking fluids through a now shredded set of coveralls. The auphe was scooping out the vampire's innards, tearing into them and slurping happily.

Cal thought of Promise, and suddenly anger overrode disgust. He put the gun in his back belt and slipped up behind the auphe with a tire iron he picked up. It didn't notice him until the last second. It turned with a hiss, baring its bloody teeth and shooting up with lightning grace. Cal was prepared. He slammed the tire iron into its skull, sending the thing crashing to the floor. It writhed in pain, momentarily stunned. Cal grabbed its slick white hair and dragged it over to a wall, grabbing a handful of screwdrivers on the way. In rapid succession, he slammed each screwdriver into its arms, legs, & shoulders, pinning it to the wall like a bug. The auphe was fully awake again, screeching and snapping at Cal with razor sharp teeth.

Cal stood panting in front of it, fury roiling in his gut. "Do you know who I am?"

"You are meat. Worthless. I will flay your skin and eat it while you watch." The thing said through a wall of teeth. Bloody saliva dripped from its chin. Cal felt the familiar pull of a gate forming, and slammed the tire iron to its pinned shoulder.

"It's not like you can go anywhere," he sneered, showing his own teeth.

"Others will feel it. Others will come. We are legion. We will make you pay."

"Good point," grunted Cal. The vampire mechanic had been working on a car – the hood was up and jumper cables still dangling over the side. Cal started the engine, then grabbed the clamps on the cables and turned back to the auphe. It was trying to form a gate again. Cal jabbed both ends into its gut.

The thing shrieked and thrashed. The pungent smell of burnt auphe filled the air. Cal pulled away the pinchers. The misty precursor to the gate dissipated like smoke.

"Take a good look. Do you know me?" he snarled at the auphe.

It had stopped bucking against the pinions and instead hung limply. It coldy regarding him. It seemed – surprised. And thoughtful.

Cal leaned in a little. "Now I know pain doesn't mean shit to you, unless you're the one giving it, and death means even less. But maybe this will get your attention: tell me what I want to know and I'll kill you. Don't tell me, and I'll let you live, but I'll fry your brain until you can't gate anymore." He touched the cables briefly to make them spark. "You'll be meat for the others. I'll cut out your tongue and stick you back in Tumulus."

A slow grin spread over the auphe's face. "You are one of us. I can smell you, see it in your face. But we didn't know you. We have such plans for one like you." It was crooning, now. "Poor thing. All alone. Come back to your family. No one else will have you."

Cal couldn't suppress a shudder. "Been there, done that, got the lousy psychosis. Besides, I bet Darkling just up and disappeared on you, didn't he?"

It jerked furiously against the screwdrivers, almost pulling one out. Cal slammed it back in. The auphe was snarling, its teeth snapping inches away from a maniacally grinning Cal. "We will find you again, little brother. And when we do, we are going to do such things to you…" As the auphe started to describe the tortures they would devise for Cal, it was like a black shadow bloomed in his head. He jammed the jumper cables back in the auphe. Everything around him was shrouded in madness except the electricity arcing through the violently thrashing body of the monster. Its shriek was far away. Cal imagined it was his rage and hatred coursing through the metal, torturing the auphe, getting back at it for what they did to him. He felt powerful for once in his life, being able to hurt one of them instead of the other way around. It felt good. It felt like…like Darkling.

Cal cried out, dropping the cables and staggering back. He heard an echo of Niko's voice in his head, saying he didn't care what happened to the auphe. He cared about what this was doing to Cal.

Cal leaned against the car, wiping his face with his free hand.

Smoke hung in the air around the auphe, and the metal of the screwdrivers was hot. It hung limply, head down, blood trailing from its mouth, nose, ears, & even its eyes. A moment later, though, he heard a soft, hoarse laugh coming from it.

"Weak. Pathetic," it whispered. It lifted its head just enough to gaze at him with narrowed, blood red eyes. "This is what comes of tainting the bloodline. You have no stomach for this, little sheep. You may as well lie down and die."

Cal took out his knife, came over and decapitated the thing without another thought. He cleaned off the blade on an oil-stained rag. He then wiped down anything he may have touched. He shut off the car engine, turned out the lights, and hurried away. Cal made it a half a block before he had to lean against a building and be violently sick. He staggered further to a dark space by some steps and slumped into a seated position.

"Nik, I can't do this by myself," he whispered harshly. He had a strong urge to call his borther, even if it would just be to hear him say he didn't know him again. He needed a dose of sanity. Cal had never been on his own for this long. He took deep, slow breaths, using the calming exercises Niko always tried to make him do. It was a way of connecting – Cal imagined Niko kneeling beside him, talking him through the breaths and counting them out.


	3. How To Win Friends & Influence People

**Chapter 3: How To Win Friends and Influence People**

Eventually Cal was able to pull himself up to a standing position and continue slowly to One Eyed Jack's. Once he was close, it was easy to follow the scent trails of a number of supernatural patrons that combined and moved towards a rundown grungy building. Cal stepped through the front door, and ran right into an outstretched arm as solid as iron. He followed the arm up to the over-ripe revenant it belonged to.

"Invitation only," it rasped in Cal's face.

Cal tried not to gag, and instead put a hundred dollar bill into its sticky shirt pocket. "Here, Ben Franklin told me I should give this place a try."

The revenant expelled more fetid air his way, but waved him in. Cal glanced around the front room. It was full of the real bottom feeders of the underground – revenants, mangy werewolves, and underfed lamias that made runway models look positively obese. Cal strolled up and took a stool at the bar. The bartender was a large, beefy man with a single bloodshot eye in the middle of his forehead. He used it now to glower at Cal.

Cal drummed his fingers on the counter. "So. I'm guessing you're Jack."

The cyclops sneered and rolled his eye. "Funny. A real comedian. What do you want here?" He spat in a mug and began polishing it.

"Hmmm. I'll take a beer. In a bottle, thanks."

Jack fetched a Corona. He twisted off the lid and slammed it down. Cal nixed the request for a slice of lime before it left his mouth. Instead he slipped another hundred across the counter and leaned forward. "I'm looking for someone. A little bat-eared, pig-faced shit by the name of Timur."

Jack thought it over for a second or two, and then the hundred disappeared. "He's usually in by midnight, heads for the tables in back. The worst card player you ever saw."

Cal smiled and nodded. "Thanks." He found a dark corner by the door, had a seat, and started to nurse his beer. Alcohol on an empty stomach was maybe not the best option, but it was that or risk the food here. Jack probably shopped at that butcher shop he saw earlier, he thought darkly. The thought roiled his stomach.

Sure enough, close to midnight Timur came strolling in wearing a threadbare polyester suit like it was Fred Astaire's tux. Cal let him get far enough past the door, then pounced.

Timur must have heard his coming, what with the bat ears and all. He turned and his mouth stretched into a comically large oval and a shriek like a tea kettle came out. He turned and ran, overturning tables and chairs in Cal's path. To give him credit, the little shit could move when terrified. It wasn't enough to save him, though. Cal caught the collar of his jacket before he made the hall to the restrooms. It ripped a third of the way, but held. Cal spun Timur into a wall, knocking the breath out of him. Cal pounced on him and dragged him back to his feet.

"Hey, Timur, remember me?" Cal grinned, leaning down real close. The guy had to be no taller than four and a half feet.

Timur shrieked again and flailed in Cal's death grip. "Help! It's going to eat me!"

Cal checked out of the corner of his eye, but all the bar's patrons were shifting around in their seats and looking away. Apparently no one wanted to get between him and his 'meal.'

"Let's go somewhere we can chat in private," Cal hissed, dragging the struggling, squeaking Timur down the hall in a headlock. He found the back door, kicked it open, and hauled him into an alley. Cal shoved Timur into a wall and pulled out his favorite knife – the bodach knife. He ran the edge along Timur's neck. He froze, staring up at Cal and shivering.

"Right. A Few days ago you were doing some kind of ritual with a glowing ball, and I got stuck in the middle."

Timur's expression changed instantly to one of outrage. "Yes! The Feezig! Sacred object of my ancestors. Was meant for me, and you stole its blessing!"

Cal shook his head. "Wait. You do remember me?"

Timur's chin came up indignantly. "Feezig only works on stupid non-Timur. I remember you, thief!"

"I thought your name was Timur, not your people."

He looked at Cal like he was a complete dolt. "My name is Timur. My proud race is Timur. Can you not hear the difference?"

_Time to move on_, thought Cal. Gritting his teeth, he growled, "Right. Fine. Obviously I'm not worthy of the Feezig's blessing. I want this thing undone right now."

Timur shook his head furiously. "No, no. It can't happen. Feezig can't be undone."

Cal felt that black shadow in the depths of his brain stir. He leaned in close, gripping Timur's arm and bringing the knife tip just under his eye. "Did you hear what happened to Hobgoblin?" he said quietly. Timur shook his head briefly, staring up in horrified fascination. "I did. I opened up a gate to Tumulus and I pushed him in. You know why?"

"Meep."

Cal's nose was almost touching Timur's. "Because Hob tried to take my brother from me. Now imagine what I'm gonna do to you."

Timur was glistening with sweat, and it smelled rank. It was approaching Abbagor strength. His skinny chest heaved and he sobbed. "Break it! Break the Feezig or die, and it's undone. Murderous auphe! The last artifact of my great people, and you want to destroy it!"

Cal released him and stepped back, wiping his hand on a dumpster. Shit, anything was better than Timur sweat. "It's that or your skull, Timur. Now where is it?"

"I don't have it."

Cal lunged forward again.

"I lost it!" shrieked the little guy, hands up to protect his face. "I lost it in a card game."

Cal stared at him in disgust. "You're shitting me, right? The great artifact of your people and you use it for stakes in a card game?"

Timur looked miserable.

Cal ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine. So who'd you lose it to?"

There was more sulking on Timur's part, and more threats on Cal's, before Timur finally gave up the information: he'd lost the Feezig to a peri by the name of Aurelion. Aurelion owned an art gallery downtown located at the top of a high-rise building. "And he's a thief, just like you," muttered Timur.

"Sounds like we'll get along great, then," said Cal, and he dragged Timur along to the car. He didn't want to risk the little shit warning Aurelion in hopes of a reward or revenge, especially since he knew Cal was hell-bent on breaking the precious Feezig.

Timur went agog at the sight of the Camaro. "This is your car?" He sounded impressed in spite of himself.

"Yeah. I stole it." Cal tossed him into the passenger's seat and slammed the door.


	4. Art For Art's Sake

**Chapter 4: Art For Art's Sake**

The drive to Aurelion 's passed in silence. Cal could focus, now. He had a goal, and a means to achieve it. He just had to concentrate on that and nothing else. He wanted to look over and see Niko, hear his brother's voice as he'd go over the upcoming job meticulously. But instead he had a sniveling Timur. Fantastic.

Cal parked out on the street. It was after midnight but there were still well-dressed people entering the building. He dragged Timur out of the car and stared up at the building. There were fancy cars parked around on the street, and some people in chauffer outfits standing around talking to one another. A couple in evening dress entered the main double doors, which were opened by a man in livery. Cal had been to enough high-end affairs with Niko as a bodyguard to recognize when some fancy shindig was in full swing. With the way his luck was running, Aurelion probably had the Feezig on display.

He tried the loading dock around back, and his luck made an about face as he realized the caterers had the back doors propped open to let out some of the kitchen heat. When no one was looking, he pulled Timur inside. He walked through quickly like he belonged and found a handy custodial closet.

"Sorry, Timur, but here's where you and I part company," said Cal. He pushed him into the closet and tied the squirming captive with strips of dishtowels and sheets. He gagged Timur with a washcloth. He just stared up at Cal, huge eyes brimming with tears and nose overflowing with snot.

"If I see you again tonight, I'll shoot you," Cal said coldly, trying to do his best menacing Niko impression.

Cal bounded up the stairs two at a time, mentally cursing Niko for hardwiring his brain so he couldn't get into an elevator if he tried at this point. At the top floor, he paused long enough to run fingers through his hair and try and relax his expression so he looked more like a moody artist type instead of a gun toting lunatic.

When he stepped into the hall, a fine woven carpet cushioned his footsteps. He made his way to the gallery past a couple of werewolf "greeters," walking in close behind a woman doused in perfume to mask his scent. The gallery crowd was a classier crowd than One Eyed Jack's. Not all of the paranorms lived on the dregs of human society. A couple of vampires, sylphs, even a well-groomed werewolf blended in among rich people and creative artist types. The humans were completely oblivious to the presence of the others. Willful ignorance is bliss, as Cal had so often tried to tell Niko. As he paused by the first painting, pretending to study it, he briefly wondered how his brother was doing, if he was more content without an annoying, chaotic little brother around to constantly screw up his life. Maybe things were better as they were. Cal tamped down on that thought. Get the Feezig, and then make a choice. One thing at a time.

Cal looked around. Aurelion had a very eclectic collection of modern art. There were impressionistic paintings, weird-ass sculptures, and some artifacts that Cal would have taken a closer look at if he had time. Niko and Promise would love this, he thought irritably. Some skinny woman in all black tried to engage him in an obscure debate about God knows what, but Cal shrugged her off. He made his way through the edge of the crowd, looking for the Feezig. Finally he spotted it across the room on a pedastal covered with a glass box. The first time he'd seen it, the Feezig was glowing pure white. Now it was shot through with purple energy swirling around. The sum of his life, sucked into that stupid glowing ball. Cal focused on a group of people beyond the display, smiling as if about to join some friends.

A commotion started up by the entrance. "He's here! He came to steal from you! Filthy auphe!"

Cal swore and sprinted for the display, shoving through groups of people and knocking over a caterer's tray. A large black haired peri appeared in a break in the crowd, holding Timur by the neck. The peri tossed Timur to one side and ran to intercept Cal.

Cal grabbed a metal sculpture and threw it at the glass, breaking it open in a spray of shards. People screamed and dove out of the way. He made it just before the peri and had the ball at his fingertips as Aurelion's mass slammed into him. Cal and the Feezig went flying. The glass ball hit the ultra soft carpet and rolled. Timur screamed and chased after it, hands outstretched. Cal wanted to do the same thing, but he had problems of his own. Aurelion picked him up off the floor and threw him through a large window. Fortunately, he hit the balcony's garden deck outside. Cal gasped and staggered to his feet. Damn, but the peri had a hell of a lot of upper body strength. Cal drew his knife instead of the gun, since he didn't actually want to shoot innocent, albeit pretentious art snobs. He turned to face the pissed off peri who was stepping through the broken window, feet crunching on broken glass. Cal crouched down. Aurelion was huge, with broad shoulders. His black wings rustled out from his shoulders, but they hung down and dragged behind him. Cal realized the peri's wings were maimed, as if they had been mangled and badly reset.

"No one takes what's mine, auphe," he spat.

Cal sneered. "Technically, what's inside it is mine. I'm just here to get it back."

Aurelion inhaled sharply. "Those are memories of you? Hah! Better you should be taken out of this world, freak."

"Fuck, now you've hurt my feelings. You shouldn't have done that."

Aurelion had strength and cunning, but those wings dragged and slowed him down. Cal moved with all the speed and lethal skill Niko instilled in him over the years. Still it was almost not enough. As they fought they took out multiple planters and a couple more windows. People were gathering around the windows inside and Cal wondered briefly if the norms thought the gallery owner wore a giant feathered cloak in the middle of a knife fight. That was about when Aurelion managed to get Cal in a chokehold. He dangled him over the roof, grinned, and threw him.

The roof was over 20 flights up and for a split second Cal had whirling views of the high rise, sky, and asphalt rushing up at him. Then a net of crackling energy appeared beneath him to the answering pull in his gut. Cal fell through and appeared just a few feet behind Aurelion. He managed to land semi-gracefully right behind the peri. He swung with the knife, and at the last second reversed and hit him behind the ear with the pommel. Aurelion collapsed in a feathery heap.

"I fucking _hate_ being dangled off fucking rooftops!" he snarled.

Cal ran back in, scattering the guests. Timur had the bad luck to be running by just then, holding out the Feezig and screaming, "Mine! Mine!" Cal tripped him up and grabbed the flying globe out of the air.

"Nope, it's mine, precious," he snarled at the prone Timur.

Cal made it out of the building before the police had it secured. He drove away in the Camaro at the speed limit, pulling over like a good citizen to let the wailing police cars go by. He had the Feezig tucked into his jacket, a solid weight like a decision that couldn't be held off for much longer. Exhaustion was settling in. He drove back to the motel, hoping to crash for a few hours. The thought of being able to see Niko burned in his chest, but he wanted to make this choice carefully. If the auphe didn't know who Cal was, they probably wouldn't have any idea who Niko was. Would breaking the Feezig be the ultimate act of selfishness? He supposed he could go back to New York and check on his brother, to see how he was doing.

Cal made it back to the motel, brooding the whole way. By the time he'd made it to his door he was so tired he had forgotten that the smell of puck and superninja would be trouble for him at the moment. He started to turn around, but was too slow. A knife pressed at his throat and a familiar hand locked on his wrist. Niko. And from the smell of it, a very pissed off Robin was behind him.


	5. Endgame

**Chapter 5: Endgame**

"Turn the key and open the door slowly. Let's not play any games."

"Shit," muttered Cal. He unlocked the door and opened it. Niko wrenched him inside and pinned him to a wall, the knife still at his throat. Cal held perfectly still. If Niko did kill him, the Feezig's spell would end and Niko would know exactly what he had done.

"Search him," Niko said to Robin.

Goodfellow stepped to one side and in a matter of seconds stripped Cal of every concealed weapon he carried, tossing them onto the bed. He pulled out the small wad of bills from his jacket and snapped, "This had better not be all that's left!"

Cal shrugged. "Sorry, but do you know how much gas is these days?" Okay, so he wasn't being too careful.

Robin stepped forward, eyes narrowing. Niko stopped him short with a glance. "We came for the car, Goodfellow. Now is that all he had?"

Robin hissed in annoyance and checked the inside of Cal's jacket. He pulled out the glowing Feezig and sucked in his breath.

"What is it?" Niko asked.

Robin's irritation was melting into uncertainty. "I'm not sure, but if Timur was involved…" He looked at Cal, and shook his head. "No. I just can't believe this. Surely there would have been something out of place, some indication…"

Cal slumped against the wall. It looked like he might have his choice made for him after all.

"Robin, a little explanation, please."

Robin held up the ball, squinting at it up close. "The Timur truly are the pissants of the monster world. Any abilities they have are purely defensive. They have a tendency to scam a lot of people in an area and then move on. When things get too hot and the angry mob starts to close in, they ah, have something called a Feezig that erases a person out of other people's lives: memories, belongings, and so on. That way they can make a clean get away."

"Niko's eyes cut over to Robin. "And you think this might be one of those," he curled his lip at the name, "Feezigs?"

"Well, I've only seen one other before this, in Constantinople around 900, actually. You see there was this eunuch having an affair with a nobleman's wife-"

"Alright," Niko cut him off. He searched Cal's face. "Damn. You do have her voice and eyes. This thing took away our memories of you?"

Cal hesitated. He knew he couldn't lie to Niko, even now. Still, he hadn't expected this to happen so soon. "You may be better off not knowing," he said quietly.

Niko let go of him and he slumped to the floor, exhaustion pinning him down. Niko stood looking down at him for a moment, his face unreadable. Finally he looked at Robin. "Break it."

Robin looked horrified. "Do you have any idea what this is worth?"

"I want to know the truth," Niko said firmly. He looked back down at Cal. "If he breaks it and nothing happens, you will regret this."

Cal grimaced and nodded. He'd never been on the receiving end of one of Niko's genuine threats. It wasn't fun.

Robin grumbled, "And here I thought I could make a profit from this mess." He dropped the ball to the carpet, and crushed it under his heel. There was a flare of purplish light and a brief pressure against their eardrums. Cal held his breath.

There was a moment's pause, and then Niko inhaled sharply. "Cal," he whispered in a hoarse voice. He hauled his brother to his feet and gave him a crushing hug. Cal returned it in spite of his bruises and sore muscles. He could feel a slight tremor in Niko's arms. At last his brother held him out to take a look at him.

Cal almost quipped, did ya miss me?, but the look of guilt and worry in his brother's eyes stopped him. Instead he shrugged and gave him an awkward smile. "I'm alright, Cyrano. Don't sweat it."

Niko straightened the jacket he'd had clutched in his fist moments ago. "I'm sorry."

Cal hit him lightly in the arm. "I said don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault. If anything it was mine for getting tackled by that damn minotaur in the first place."

Niko frowned a little. "Yes, we'll have to work on your dodging. And why is there broken glass in your hair?"

Cal winced, and briefly touched his hair. "I, um, went to this art gallery and got tossed out a window."

Robin snorted in amusement. "No surprise there. Your manners are atrocious and you couldn't tell a Seurat from a Pollock. Even so, I'm, well, glad to have you back." Cal started to thank him when he added, "But don't think that means you're getting out of paying me back! There's the vandalism at my store, the money from the safe, the cost of tracking down your ass… I have gas receipts!"

Niko cut him off. "We'll pay you back for the cash, Robin. But your insurance covered the store, and as for the cost of coming down here, I remember you offering to pay for this trip in full in order to recover your car, plus the agency's usual rates. I'll be willing to wave the agency fees, a generous offer seeing as how we actually have recovered the car."

The look of outrage on the puck's face was priceless. He sputtered, "But, that wasn't…Your own brother took…" There was more sputtering, to which the siblings faced with equally bland expressions. Finally Robin huffed, "Right. That'll teach me. I'll never make another deal with a gypsy!"

Cal snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. The Camaro got a little scratched up and the passenger side door took a hit, but I'm sure a little body work will fix her right up."

Robin squawked and rushed out the door. Niko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me the car's alright."

"The car's fine."

He studied Cal. "And you? How are you, really?"

Cal sagged onto the edge of the bed. "I'm wiped out. I had to make a gate tonight when I got tossed off a roof. It's been a long couple of days." He paused. "Jesus. I missed you, Nik."

Niko sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. "You'll have to tell me everything. I am sorry Cal. Maybe it wasn't anything I did, but I can imagine the kind of hell you went through. Why don't you get a quick shower while I settle your bill? You can sleep in the car on the trip home. And Cal?"

Cal paused in the process of getting up.

Niko's hand flashed out and he flicked Cal's ear. Hard. "That's for saying I would be better off not knowing. I am not 'better off' without my family. When we get back we'll discuss this at length."

Cal scowled and rubbed his ear. He didn't put up a fight, though. It was an old argument and he was too tired to get into it now. When he got out of the shower he had to put on the same dirty clothes, but at least his hair was glass free. He came out to the main room just as Robin was finishing up a call on his cell.

Robin said, "Well, I managed to find a buyer for the Camaro here in Atlantic City."

"Ha! See? I ought to get a commission." At the puck's glare he gulped. "Or not."

"Hhmph. Neo-ninja's settling your bill, and then I think we should get the show on the road. Word on the street is a very frightening auphe-like person crashed a showing at Aurelion's and shot up the place. A couple of vampires are saying they barely escaped with their lives after you tried to kill and eat them. Really, Cal. I thought you knew the difference between an art gallery and a shooting gallery. Didn't Niko house train you?"

Cal rolled his eyes. "Hey, I would have been perfectly happy to just get in and get out. But that crazy-ass peri damn near killed me. What's the story with him, anyway?"

"You mean you don't know?" Robin stared. "I keep forgetting just how little you and your brother knew about the supernatural world until recently. I'll tell you both on the way back."

Cal laughed. Great. Robin would have hours to tell a story and a captive audience. He found he was actually looking forward to it. The laughter faded. "Hey, Robin. What was it like, the last two days?" he asked diffidently.

Robin grimaced. "Oh, goody. I see we've reached the angst portion of the evening."

"Fine. Forget it."

"No, wait." He stopped Cal with a hand on his sore arm. He couldn't see the bruises since Cal had put his jacket back on before coming out, but he let go when Cal winced. "It was quiet. And your brother had this perfectly clean apartment and a well ordered life, but…" Robin searched for the right words. "He didn't seem to have a focus. Like he was doing things because that's just what he was supposed to be doing, not because he had a driving reason to do them."

"Well put," said Niko from the doorway. "Come on, little brother. Let's take you home."

"Yes, let's. Before Feral Boy here decides to set fire to a concert hall."

"Bite me, Loman."

"When and where, Sweet Cheeks?"

Niko put a hand on Cal's shoulder. "You must be exhausted to have walked into that one."

"Like I said: it's been a long couple of days."


End file.
